


If This Bus Could Talk

by MeghanAnna



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 12:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12581728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeghanAnna/pseuds/MeghanAnna
Summary: On the bus to visit Raven on Halloween, a strange (handsome) man falls asleep on Clarke's shoulder and she has no idea what to do about it.





	If This Bus Could Talk

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my friend Sabrina who took a bus to visit a friend and had a stranger fall asleep on her. Don't fall asleep on strangers, kids. It's weird.

Halloween is Clarke’s favorite day of the year. Even when it falls on a Tuesday. She’s still taking the bus up to visit Raven at school so they can go out and celebrate together like they have for the past three years. It’s their senior year of college—their last hurrah before they become “adults” or whatever—and Clarke isn’t going to let it slip by.

Sure, she has to miss her last class of the day so she can catch the bus and then her only class the next day, but it’s worth it. Being separated from Raven every day is hard enough. She refuses to miss Halloween, of all days. Next year will be easier; they’ll be in the same city and can make all of their plans face to face instead of over the phone or on Skype.

She’s one of the first people on the bus and picks a seat in the back, automatically putting her earbuds in, a very obvious sign that she is not interested in anyone’s bus conversation. No thank you. Not today.

While the rest of the passengers file in and pick their seats, Clarke stares resolutely at her phone. There’s an empty seat next to her, so she’s sure someone will sit there, but proper bus etiquette does not require eye contact or chit chat. She expects her seatmate to respect that. She does look up once, though, when someone trips in the aisle, swearing under their breath. There’s a steady line of people in front of whoever it is, though, so she can’t tell who actually tripped once she looks up. But she does accidentally make eye contact with a smiling elderly woman. Someone who looks like they’re just raring to make the trip go by faster with some idle, mindless small talk.

Clarke quickly looks back down at her phone, turns up the volume and switches from the podcast she was listening to to loud, drum-filled music. She knows that whoever even thinks about sitting next to her will be able to hear it. It’s a little too loud for her liking, but she’s determined to be left alone for the next three hours.

Before the old lady can reach her, though, someone pauses next to her. They hesitate for a second before swinging their bag under the seat in front of them and sits down. Clarke lets out a sigh of relief and tries to look at her new seatmate without turning her head. She doesn’t get a good look, but it’s a guy, much closer to her age than the woman she was afraid of. He’s already got his own headphones on and doesn’t seem to be interested in even looking at her.

He’s perfect.

She does wait until the bus leaves the station to switch back to her podcast and turn it down to a respectable volume. Once they’re on the highway, she settles deep into her seat, resting her head against the window. Her new, silent friend gets comfortable too, bumping her elbow in the process. They smile tightly at each other and Clarke hopes he doesn’t notice how her eyes widen when she finally gets a good look at him.

He’s… gorgeous. All messy hair and face full of freckles. He’s got a thin, patchy beard across his jaw and chin. Broad shoulders and thick arms, but a more defined torso. And he’s wearing a _Harry Potter_ shirt and reading a tattered copy of _The Iliad_ , so she knows he’s not a typical gym rat.

She thought he was perfect before—when he sat down quietly—but now? Damn. Now he’s as perfect as one person can be. And she doesn’t even know his name.

She turns slowly back to looking out the window. Trees zoom past as her podcast ends and a new episode starts automatically. It’s easy to listen and look out the window, forgetting she’s still got over two hours on the bus. It’s easy to let her eyelids fall shut and force them open again. Something about falling asleep on the bus—or any public transportation—really freaks her out. She wants to make it to Raven’s school unharmed and alive.

Apparently, she may be the only one who feels this way. After just over an hour on the bus and two episodes of _Modern Love_ , she feels something heavy and hairy fall on her shoulder. And she doesn’t need to look down to know what it is.

She does look down, of course, and sees exactly what she was expecting. Her beautiful, perfect bus companion has fallen asleep. On her shoulder. He somehow looks even better when he’s asleep—so peaceful. But, still. It’s weird. Him sleeping on her shoulder like this. He could be a murderer. Or a Trump supporter, which is obviously so much worse.

The thought alone almost makes her push him off of her, but then he sighs and nearly nuzzles her neck as he falls even deeper asleep. She actually doesn’t want to wake him. You have to be _really_ tired to just fall asleep on a stranger. Granted, she’s never done it, but people don’t just _do_ that. And based off of his earbuds and book, he wasn’t expecting to fall asleep at all, let alone on top of someone. So, for now, Clarke’s just going to let it happen. It’s will be her one good deed of the day.

\--

It remains uncomfortable for a while, but eventually Clarke gets used to the added weight. Of course, it’s still _weird_ and it will always be weird, but it’s not bothering her anymore. She’s barely thinking about it at all, actually.

Of course, as soon as she realized he wasn’t going anywhere, she texted Raven.

**Clarke:** A really hot guy is passed out on my shoulder. What do I do?

**Raven:** That’s fucking weird. Push him into the aisle.

**Clarke:** But he’s really hot.

**Clarke:** Like… really hot, Raven. I can’t do that.

**Raven:** Then, deal with it. And tell me if he drools on you.

**Raven:** Actually, tell me if he does anything. Don’t get murdered on Halloween, Clarke. It’s so cliché.

**Clarke:** Very funny, but I don’t think I’m the one in danger here. He’s the one sleeping on a complete stranger.

**Raven:** True.

But now the bus is nearing the final stop, which is a few blocks from Raven’s campus, and she’s getting a little nervous. She’s used to having someone sleeping on her shoulder, but he’s going to wake up and probably have no idea why she wouldn’t just jerk him awake to begin with. She’s sure he doesn’t _want_ to be sleeping on her.

And now she’s doubting herself. _Should_ she have pushed him off of her? Or at least moved him more gently somehow? She knows she’d be freaked out if she fell asleep on someone and they just let her sleep there. Again, it’s _weird_ , but she really was just trying to be nice and let him sleep.

She tries to slide her shoulder out from under his head, so she can either wake him up or get her hand under him to move him into his own seat before the bus stops. Just as she gets enough space between them, though, the bus goes over a speed bump and he wakes up, jolting forward to hit his head against hers.

“Fuck,” they both say at the same time. She puts a hand against her forehead and pulls her earbuds out while he rubs the top of his head and looks at her. He looks so confused. She can’t even blame him.

“Sorry,” she tells him, but she’s not even sure why. To ease his confusion, maybe?

“Was I sleeping _on_ you?” he asks and his voice surprises her. It’s very deep.

“Um,” she bites her lip and looks out the window as the bus pulls to a stop. “Yes?”

He smirks at the question in her voice and she nods, looking more confident, at least. “I’m really so—“

“It’s fine,” she promises, cutting him off and grabbing her backpack from under the seat. “It’s –“

“Still, I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” He stands up and grabs his bag, stepping back to let her walk out first. “Thanks,” she mutters under her breath. She walks off the bus with her backpack on and her head down.

When her feet finally hit cement, she turns her head back to smile at him, but he’s already walking in the opposite direction. She watches as he gets into a parked car that pulls away before his door even closes.

“Was that him?”

Clarke jumps and wheels around to see Raven laughing at her. “Yes.”

“He is hot,” she says thoughtfully before pulling on Clarke’s wrist. “Come on, we have to get ready.”

\--

The great thing about Raven is that she takes Halloween—and Halloween costumes—very seriously. Really. All Clarke needed to provide was her measurements and a pair of tall boots. Raven took care of the rest. And that was all while she was building her own costume out of fiberglass and taking on a full course load.

When Clarke walks into Raven’s dorm room—small, but bigger than her previous ones—she’s amazed to see two finished products waiting for them. An entire Iron Man costume for Raven—fiberglass painted perfectly—and a Captain America costume for Clarke. “These are amazing,” she says, running her fingers over the seam of the pants meant for her.

“Thanks,” Raven says proudly. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks down at her costume on the bed. “Monty and Jasper helped a lot.”

“I’ll thank them at the party,” Clarke promises. “How much time do we have?”

“Since we’re going off campus to Monty’s new boyfriend’s place, we need to get an Uber. We probably have about an hour. Jasper’s going to come and grab us when we need to leave.”

“I’ll help you get suited up and then get ready.”

They do just that—Clarke taking orders from Raven, helping her step and get strapped into her costume—and then Clarke changes into the outfit Raven and her other friends helped make. It fits perfectly and looks as legit as a woman Captain America costume can. And when Raven reaches behind her wardrobe and pulls out a shield, Clarke claps with excitement.

It’s made out of the leftover fiberglass from Raven’s costume and it matches Clarke’s costume perfectly. “I thought we were going to stop and pick up a cheap one on the way?” Clarke asks and Raven just shrugs, though she can barely tell from her being weighed down by all the armor. “Thank you!”

“No one does Halloween better than a bunch of college kids,” Raven says. “We need to take advantage of it this year.”

Clarke hums in agreement, marveling at the two of them in the mirror when there’s a sharp knock on the door. “It’s open,” Raven calls, grabbing her phone off the bed. As soon as Jasper’s in the room, she hands it to him. “Take a quick picture and then I’ll get an Uber.”

Jasper does as he’s told and hands the phone to Raven before scooping Clarke up in a hug. She squeezes him back and it feels really good to be with her friends again. Raven and Clarke are a year above Monty and Jasper, but ever since high school, the four of them have been inseparable. When Clarke got into college in the city, she had to go—it was the best pre-med program she’d applied to _and_ she got in early action. Raven got into an incredible mechanical engineering program three hours north of the city and, a year later, Monty got into the same engineering program and Jasper found a chemistry program at the same school. It’s tough being away from her friends while they’re still going to school together and living within minutes from each other, but it’s not the end of the world.

“Monty’s already there, helping set up for the party,” Jasper explains as the three of them trudge down the hall of the dorm. “He sent me a picture, it looks good.”

“Miller doesn’t give a shit about parties or Halloween, but Monty somehow got him to invite like sixty kids over and let him decorate the whole apartment,” Raven laughs, pushing through the front door.

“So, do we like Miller then?”

“Definitely,” Raven says. Jasper nods next to her. That’s good, at least. Clarke doesn’t need to worry if Raven isn’t.

\--

Monty’s boyfriend lives in an apartment on the second story of a multi-family house. The house itself isn’t decorated and the lights on the first floor aren’t even on, but there are different colored lights shining through the middle floor. One room is lit up red, another purple, and the last that Clarke can see is green. She can also see what looks like fake cobwebs on the windows and hear creepy music seeping onto the street.

“Monty outdid himself this year,” Clarke remarks, looking up proudly.

“We taught him well,” Raven agrees. Jasper grabs their hands and start dragging them up the front porch. “Unhand me, Jasper.”

“Moonshine,” he says, dropping their hands to open the door. “You think he outdid himself with decorations? Wait until you try the _moonshine_.”

That gets them up the stairs pretty quickly. By the time they’re inside the apartment, Clarke can barely hear herself think—the music is so loud—but she doesn’t even care. Monty and moonshine and Halloween await her.

She’s barely three steps into the apartment when someone cuts her off. “You.”

Clarke looks up to find her sleepy bus companion and takes a step back into Jasper’s chest. “You,” she says, feeling Jasper scoot around her. Raven’s still by her side, though, looking more than a little amused. Her helmet is under her arm and she’s looking over bus guy’s half-assed Superman costume.

“Wow, you two take Halloween pretty seriously,” he says and Clarke just shrugs. She doesn’t know what to say to this guy. He was asleep on her only two hours ago.

“You… don’t.” Raven laughs before covering it with a fake, overdramatic cough. Clarke can’t help but roll her eyes.

“I’m Bellamy,” he says, offering his hand. She shakes it slowly, almost suspiciously.

“Clarke.”

“Huh,” he says, smirking a little as he takes his hand back. “Maybe you should have been Superman instead.”

“Superman sucks,” Raven tells him and it’s Clarke’s turn to laugh.

Bellamy hums and Clarke looks at him a little more closely. The living room is lit with the purple bulbs and it makes his skin glow. He should have shaved his patchy beard if he was going for Superman, but he left it. She doesn’t hate it, but she wonders what he’d look like without it. His glasses are thick and black—very Clark Kent—but he wasn’t wearing them on the bus, so she doesn’t think they’re functional. His button down shirt is tucked in haphazardly and unbuttoned to show off his generic Superman t-shirt. She’s glad he left his hair alone. It’s still fluffy and curly like it was on the bus—on her shoulder.

“Anyway,” he says finally and Clarke shakes herself out of her thoughts. She stops appraising him and focuses on his face instead. “It was weird earlier. On the bus. I don’t normally fall asleep on people.”

“That you know of,” Clarke says and he laughs a little.

“Right. If I do, I’m assuming they push me off of them.”

“Like a normal person would,” Clarke agrees, looking down and shaking her head. “I don’t normally _let_ strangers sleep on me for prolonged periods of time. But, then again, no one’s ever fallen asleep on me. I didn’t know the protocol.”

“Hey,” he says, holding up a hand to stop her. “I appreciate it. I worked late last night, got up to go to classes this morning, and then immediately hopped on a bus. I needed to sleep. I just wish I hadn’t done it _on_ a complete stranger.”

Clarke smiles at that and shrugs. “Anytime,” she tells him and then immediately rolls her eyes at herself.

“Hey!” Clarke smiles before even seeing him, but turns directly into Monty’s embrace. “You’re here!”

“Of course I am. It’s Halloween. Great job on the decorations, by the way. I hear the moonshine is even better.”

“It’s dangerous,” Bellamy says and Monty notices him for the first time.

“Do you two know each other?” he asks and they both shake their heads.

“He fell asleep on her on the bus ride up here,” Raven explains and Monty laughs.

“That was you?”

“That was me,” Clarke confirms. “Where’s this boyfriend of yours? I want to meet him before I find the moonshine.”

“Where there’s moonshine, there’s Miller,” Bellamy says and Monty nods in agreement.

He leads Clarke and Raven—and Bellamy, following slightly behind—to the kitchen where there is a group huddling near what looks like a shit ton of moonshine. One of the guys lights up when he spots Monty and Clarke guesses it has to be Miller.

\--

Meeting Miller is the _last_ thing Clarke remembers clearly. He poured her some moonshine and that was it. When she wakes up on Raven’s floor—no pillow, no air mattress, no pants—she moans in pain. Her back hurts from the shitty carpet covered cement floor and her head hurts from the deathly moonshine.

“Shut up,” Raven growls from her bed and Clarke sits up slowly.

“What happened last night?” Clarke asks, reaching for her phone that somehow ended up under the bed. She checks the time and lets out another moan. “Shit. I’m going to miss my bus.”

“You’re taking the later bus,” Raven tells her and she looks at her hiding under her pillow.

Clarke finally stands up and gets into the tiny bed with Raven. She pulls the covers over her bare legs and takes the pillow off of Raven’s head to put it under her own. “Why am I taking the later bus?”

“Because that Bellamy guy is,” Raven says, turning onto her side to look at Clarke. “He’s taking the 11 o’clock and you lied and said you were too. You two couldn’t keep your hands off of each other last night.”

“Wait. What?”

Clarke would have liked to _remember_ that. She definitely remembers that Bellamy is gorgeous and his smile was adorable and he made her laugh when he got grumpy. “You didn’t, like, makeout with him or anything. You just literally couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.”

“That might be worse,” Clarke groans and Raven laughs. “Why do you remember that and I don’t?”

“Because I regularly drink Monty’s moonshine, so I know when to stop. You’ve been gone too long, so you just drink until you can’t stand anymore.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Don’t worry,” Raven says, patting Clarke’s knee. “Bellamy doesn’t know when to stop either.”

“I should get dressed.”

“No, you should _shower_.”

“Good idea.”

\--

Clarke feels much better once she’s waiting at the bus station. She showered, she’s in clean, warm clothes, she took advil, and she’s ready to get home to bed. Raven had to go to class, so she walked Clarke to the station before heading back to campus. Now Clarke’s waiting alone, with her earbuds in, but nothing playing. She’s not waiting for Bellamy, per se, but she’s definitely keeping her eyes out for him.

She wouldn’t be surprised if he overslept and ends up taking a later bus. If she’d slept in a bed—or even on a couch—she would probably _still_ be sleeping. She lets her eyes drift shut for just a second when she feels someone sitting on the bench next to her.

“You’re alive,” Bellamy says, voice ragged. Clarke pulls her earbuds out and stuffs them in her jacket.

“So are you.”

“You’re friends are fucking crazy,” he tells her and she laughs, only stopping when her head starts to hurt again.

“Looks like they’re your friends now,” she tells him and he groans. “Jasper already texted me today about how you’re his hero.”

“Which one is Jasper?” Bellamy asks, scrunching his face and, she hates to admit it, but it’s a pretty cute look. And then she smiles. “What?”

“You shaved,” she says, shrugging. Bellamy smiles, looking down at his hands. “I was wondering what you’d look like if you shaved.” He’s wearing the glasses again, too, so they must be real.

“Well, here I am,” he says, looking up at her again. “I ran out of time before the party. And apparently for the last two weeks. I actually did it last night after everyone left Miller’s. He found me sleeping on the bathroom floor with his razor in my hand and half of my face shaved.”

“God, I wish I could have seen that.”

“I’m really glad you didn’t,” he says, standing up when the bus pulls into its spot. He offers Clarke his hand and she takes it, letting him pull her to stand. And then he doesn’t let go. “Your friends are crazy, but I like them.”

“Good,” she says, still looking at their hands. She hears the other people getting on the bus, but she can’t look away from their hands until he squeezes gently and she looks up at his face. “They like you, too. And Miller’s cool.”

“He’s okay,” Bellamy says, smiling. “I don’t remember much about last night,” he goes on, walking toward the bus, “but I remember this.” He squeezes her hand again before letting it go to climb the steps. She follows closely behind him, already missing the feel of his hand in hers.

“I didn’t until Raven told me we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other,” she admits, sliding into the aisle seat next to him. “But, then I had some coffee and some advil and it kind of came crashing back to me.”

“You live in the city, right?” he asks and she nods, making him smile. “Good. Me too. I work two jobs and go to school part time and don’t have time to shave, but I’d like to see you sometime?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Well,” he says, squinting at her. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Clarke smiles and rests her head on his shoulder. “Give me your phone.”

He does and she puts her number into it, calling herself so she’ll have his. “Thanks,” he says, tucking his phone away once she gives it back to him. She tilts her head up to look at him, but keeps it on his shoulder and she’s surprised when he kisses the crown of her head. “You can sleep if you need to. It’s only fair, right?”

“Right,” she says, folding her hand in his again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://bellamyfrecklefaceblake.tumblr.com)!


End file.
